


Acting on Instinct

by Yawa (Star7)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Azumane Asahi, Alpha Nishinoya Yuu, Alpha Sawamura Daichi, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Asahi wannabe-dominator, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fluffy Ending, Light Bondage, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating Bond, Omega Sugawara Koushi, Period-Typical Sexism, Public Nudity, Smut, Urination, oversized cock, secret sadist Asahi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:50:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22143793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star7/pseuds/Yawa
Summary: Not many people know that Suga is an omega, but his family want him to participate in a mating trial. He gets locked in a room with three surprised alphas during his heat. It goes pretty much the way you'd expect.I suck at descriptions. It's smut with some plot and a fluffy ending. Enjoy!
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Sugawara Koushi, Nishinoya Yuu/Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 24
Kudos: 386





	Acting on Instinct

**Acting on Instinct**

Sugawara Koushi is an omega. But a surprising number of people don’t seem to know that. Because everyone knows that omegas don’t play sport, but Suga does. Everyone knows that the vice-captain of the volleyball team must be an alpha, but Suga is not.

He’s never actively sought to hide it, and yet it’s somehow assumed of him. He would never hold up to any sort of real scrutiny, of course. But it seems a combination of soaking day in and day out in his all-alpha teammates’ scents - musky, powerful, and strong even by most alpha standards - has scented his own omega fragrance into a mere background hue. He is sure to stay away from school during the few days of his twice-a-year heat, which most people assume to be a rut. He takes suppressors the rest of the time, which only serve to dilute his fragrance further.

Of course his teammates know. And his friends. And anyone who knows him more than simply by sight and reputation. They know exactly what he is, but they don’t care. Because he’s tall. And good at the sport. And hardly a typical omega presentation. They can barely smell anything, what with the suppressors. Besides, it just so happens that every member of the school volleyball team is an alpha and such has been the case for the entire history of the school.

So if Suga were to say he was a beta, or indeed an alpha, likely there aren’t many in the school who would doubt it. As it is, he doesn’t say anything, so most people tend to simply… assume.

And that’s fine.

“Chance ball!”

He drags his attention back to the court as Hinata sends a fiery spike across the court, straight into the arms of Daichi who lifts it up without control, sending it drifting back to the far side of the net.

Suga sets himself running, a long, dopey gallop, his long thin legs carrying him rapidly under the descending ball. Asashi is already running up, lifting his hand, calling for it. Suga’s eyes flash through his teammates on this side of the net, then through the defenders, rapidly calculating which one – which way – which…

He sets it gently, spinning gracefully into Asahi’s palm where the large alpha smacks it down to the other side of the net…

...only to see it rise under the smug little grin of the tiny libero who anticipated the direction and got his wrists under it just in time.

“Nishinoya!” the opposing group cheer him excitedly as the ball goes back to Kageyama who sets it accurately out to Daichi who plants it heavily just a half pace away from Suga’s desperate reach.

The whistle blows for the end of the set. 

No one says that it’s because Suga is an omega that he didn’t stop the last spike. That his arms are too short. That his speed isn’t fast enough. That he isn’t strong enough. None of them think that way. All of them know his strengths. All of them believe that any weaknesses he has – and he does have many – can be worked on and eliminated through practise, through training. No one ever suggests that it might be his biology which is his disadvantage. Weighing him down. No one thinks like that about him. Because even though he’s an omega – and they all think that they know that he is an omega – somehow none of them really do know it at all.

Daichi meets him as they trail off the court. He gives a small sniff as they come together. Minute. Almost unnoticeable. As if he has a cold or is simply clearing his nose, but it gives Suga a mental shake to remember that his heat is due in the next few days. He’s been weaning off the suppressors in expectation of it. Tomorrow will likely be his last day at school for a while. He wonders if Daichi can tell, but as usual, Daichi does not comment on that at all.

“What do you think about adding in an extra run after each training? Maybe once a week?”

Suga purses his lips thoughtfully. “That might be helpful,” he agrees.

“Yeah. For stamina.”

“Right.” Suga nods in agreement and uses a towel to wipe the back of his neck. Now that he’s alert to it, he thinks he’s sweating a little more than usual. Perhaps his scent is a little stronger for it. Probably he should shower or something.

Again, he wonders if Daichi has noticed, but Daichi says nothing about it.

“Will you organise something and tell the guys?” Daichi asks him. Naturally this kind of job would fall to him as the vice-captain. He ought to go and scout out some appropriate routes. Measure the distances and the times. Let the team know what time they ought to be starting and what time they should expect to finish. He will need to let Kiyoko know so she can arrange water at a mid-point.

For a short moment, however, he finds himself a little overwhelmed. Not by the amount of work it will take to organise something so simple, but by the scent that radiates from Daichi. The captain has always been a powerful force in the team. The two of them have been friends since childhood – even before either of them presented as alpha or omega. And something about his scent always makes Suga feel a little lighter, a little warmer, a little homely. It’s rich and woody and warm like bark chips or forest mulch. Suga likes it. But he wouldn’t say as much. Even thinking about it makes him a little embarrassed.

Instead he says, “Actually I’ll probably not be in school most of this week.”

And Daichi replies. “Oh, is it your rut?”

And then Suga pauses, uncertain. Wondering if this slip of the tongue can just be ignored or whether or ought to… hurt. As it does. Just a little.

Still, Daichi seems to realise his mistake almost at once, and he waves a hand as if he can disperse his own words like they were themselves a scent. “I mean… whatever it is.” 

He’s calm, and easy. It was an honest mistake. Not a jab. Not calculated to hurt. It didn’t really mean anything. Just that Suga could so easily pass for an alpha – because he’s good at volleyball, because he plays sports, because he’s tall, and strong, and because the suppressors make it hard to notice. Or because Daichi never did care, or see him, as anything else.

And that’s fine.

“Right.”

“Next week then?”

“Okay.”

Daichi lays a hand on his shoulder. It’s heavy and warm and friendly. “Good game today. You worked hard.”

“Thanks,” Suga responds, his throat a little dry. He picks up his water bottle from the floor and drains it quickly.

* * *

He bumps into Nishinoya as he enters the communal changing rooms. 

A couple of years ago he used to dress and shower in a separate room for omegas, but he quickly found out that he missed out on important team news, strategies, and discussions that took place while they were changing. He quietly relocated himself into the alpha’s changing room at the start of his second year and, true to form, no one questioned this. He rather suspected that if he had sought permission, he would rapidly have been denied. As it is, though, the coaching staff are all willing to turn a blind eye. It probably never even occurred to the team members to comment.

He is still male, after all. All his body parts are nothing they haven’t seen before. There is no real reason to change somewhere else, apart from the scents. But he is pretty much immune to all that now. He can let the alphas’ scents wash over him, strong and heady, and although at first he tended to go a little delirious if he stayed there too long, nowadays he rarely even notices. 

But he knows them all individually. Kageyama, Hinata, Tanaka, Asahi, Nishinoya, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Ennoshita, Kinoshita, Narita… and Daichi, of course.

He can identify each of them by scent alone. All unique. All pleasant. All a source of safety for him. Eleven alphas with whom he spends the majority of his hours and the majority of his days.

Nishinoya grins excitedly at him, shirtless, his hair damp from the shower.

“Suga! Did you hear? Did you hear?”

Suga enters the room without concern. The two of them seem to be alone temporarily. 

Some distant part of his mind registers the potential danger. If his mother could see him now she would doubtless give him an earful about what it means to be a vulnerable omega in the presence of a powerful alpha like this one.

What, she would rail at him, if Nishinoya were to overpower him? What if he is rutting, or smells his gathering slick? Does Suga have any idea, she would ask, what happens to little bitches who find themselves at the mercy of base alpha instincts?

But Suga finds it easy to ignore the little warning voice. He has done this a hundred times before, been here a hundred times before. He knows Nishinoya. So he isn’t afraid.

“What’s up?”

“I’m going on a date!”

Suga takes in the sight of the overexcited alpha curiously. “Oh yeah? Who with?”

“This omega girl. From class three. She’s just… divine. You know? Divine. She smells...” he makes an exaggerated breathing motion as if imagining her there right then, “...like angels,” he concludes enthusiastically.

Suga only smiles. He does not question how Nishinoya knows what angels are supposed to smell like.

“Her hair...” Nishinoya reaches forward into the empty air and begins stroking an invisible head. “It’s so soft… soft!” The final word comes out as an overwhelmed and disbelieving little squeak that makes Suga laugh.

“You’re one lucky guy,” he says honestly.

“Right!?”

Suga drifts past him towards the shower cubicles. He notices Nishinoya give a small sniff of the air as he passes. He ignores it, but then Nishinoya speaks up.

“Hey... Suga?”

He pauses and glances back at the alpha. The way Nishinoya is looking at him makes him suddenly feel a little self-conscious. The tilt of his head. Something deep in his eyes. Has he noticed? His heat is really only a couple of days away. Perhaps he ought to be more careful? If the scent gets too strong he might accidentally affect the alphas in the team. Nishinoya is certainly sniffing the air in curiosity. For a moment Suga’s heartbeat speeds up nervously.

“You okay? You smell kinda-” Nishinoya sniffs at him again and then wrinkles his nose in distaste, “-kinda weird.”

“Oh...” Suga looks down at himself. Weird? “I guess I’m just sweaty. I’m gonna shower, so...” he trails off.

“Yeah-” Nishinoya shakes his head as if to clear it of the odd scent. “Yeah I guess you’d better do that.”

Suga goes into the shower trying hard not to be offended. It doesn’t mean anything if Nishinoya didn’t think his pre-heat smells like angels. In fact, it’s probably for the best.

* * *

By the time he gets out of the shower, Nishinoya is gone, and Kageyama and Hinata are arguing instead.

“It’s because you don’t save anything for the last five minutes,” Kageyama is accusing his shorter teammate. “You tire too easily. You need to save some energy for the last push!”

“What!?” Hinata all but explodes back at him, apparently at a complete loss for words, nothing but sheer indignation filling him. “What!?”

Suga smiled affectionately and absently mindedly takes a seat to watch the drama play out. He knows they aren’t serious. This is merely the accepted form of communication that happens to occur between the two first years. He’s come to understand that and rarely interferes with this particular relationship. At first he was afraid that they did not get on well and his natural instinct was to mediate. Now he knows that they get on rather better than most, but are simply more honest in their communications.

Sometimes he wonders what it must be like to be so confident as to communicate so powerfully and directly. He knows for a fact that he is of a softer, more gentle type than the alphas around him, and often finds himself circling around issues and problems rather than speaking forthright. Watching his two younger teammates always gives him inspiration. He wishes sometimes he could be more like them.

They catch sight of him just sitting there, listening.

“Suga!” Hinata exclaims. “What are you doing?”

Suga tilts his head, blank, clueless as to the meaning. He is surprised to see the look on their faces as they turn to see him. Startled embarrassment.

“Why- why are you sitting on the floor?” Kageyama stammers, suddenly blushing a furious red as if he’d just been caught looking at something naughty.

Suga’s eyes widen in realisation and he looks down at himself. He knelt on the floor, he realises in cold surprise, rather than take a seat directly on the bench which is right by his shoulder. Astonished even with himself, he scrambles up to his feet.

He wasn’t thinking, he realises. He was just doing what comes naturally to him. Whenever he is at home, his mother insists that he kneels on the floor as omega are traditionally expected to do. But he has never before made the mistake of doing so here, at school, among the volleyball team. It must be his heat, he thinks in unhappy surprise. Perhaps it is coming on faster than he thought. The sight and sound of the two alphas arguing loudly must have subconsciously triggered whatever part of his brain contains all his parents traditional indoctrinations.

He flushes in shame, turning as red as Kageyama.

“Oh-” he stammers, trying to think of a way to hide his mistake. “I was… I was just stretching out...” his hand drifts to his thighs and kneads at the sore muscles demonstratively. He looks at the floor and tries to will away his blush through sheer determination, hoping they’ll buy his excuse.

It isn’t that kneeling is taboo, even if it is generally seen as pretty old fashioned outside of a very few highly traditional families like Suga’s. It just that he is… Suga. And these are his teammates. And the fact that he is an omega is surprisingly easy for them to forget. Something like this is weird to the point of being a little… uncomfortable. Showing a little piece of his submissive side.

He might as well have flounced up to school in a skirt.

They don’t seem totally convinced by his excuse, but they don’t argue, either. They look a little shaken as if the revelation that he really is an omega and not just another alpha has struck them a little hard. They pack up and leave together. Hinata’s laughter is strained. Kageyama’s face is still red.

Suga puts his hands on his bag, hauls it over his shoulder and sighs.

* * *

He walks home together with Asahi. Asahi drones on about the upcoming exams. Suga knows he is a serious and studious classmate, yet he struggles with scoring well on standardised tests. Suga doesn’t mind tutoring him because he always tries hard and needs the help.

They arrange a series of study sessions together in the school library with whatever precious time they have in between classes and volleyball practise.

They are good friends, dependable teammates. Yet they part before they reach Suga’s house, Suga gently discouraging Asahi from following him right to the door. It wouldn’t be considered appropriate by his parents, he knows all too well, for him to be walking home alone with an alpha. Because while Suga might be rather flexible in his gender role at school, his parents are staunchly traditional. If they knew half the things he got up to, masquerading as an alpha – not that he does it on purpose – they’d surely pull him out of the team. Probably pull him out of school. And that is the last thing he wants

So when he gets back, he pushes the door open alone and enters the hallway. He drops his bag, kicks off his shoes, and sees his father through the kitchen door.

“I’m back!” he calls out. His father is cooking dinner, and casts him a weak, uncertain smile.

He is a small man, with soft black hair and a gentle expression. He is a good foot shorter than Suga. And two feet shorter than his alpha mother who is a lawyer in the city. She works long hours and is rarely home, but her own alpha mother – Suga’s grandma – lives with them and keeps a tight watch on the two male omegas, insisting on observance of all the traditional rules.

As such, Suga’s first duty upon returning is to present himself to her.

She always sits in the living room which she has taken over as her personal audience chamber. She spends her days watching trashy television, with an open bottle of wine at her side, and aggressively framed distance glasses perched above her sagging cheeks. She is wasting away, Suga notices, day by day. She is getting old, fast. Her hours can be counted in moments of irritation, annoyance, or downright rage. She was a successfully sportswomen in her day. A regional champion. Now she is stooped and bowed. Her joints are tired, her once powerful alpha frame is creaky and achy. Her eyes water angrily. The lines around her lips emphasise the downward motion of her frown.

She is continually frustrated by her failing body. But she remains proud as a lion, and vicious like a hawk.

Suga appears in the doorframe, already on his knees as required of him. “I’m home, grandma,” he announces, making sure to keep his voice low, soft and placating.

But almost at once the powerful scent of a second alpha rushes over him in a mist. He looks up surprised to see that his grandmother is not alone in the room. Sitting near to her, sunk into the softness of the couch, is his mother. She wears vicious stilettos and a black power suit cut close and tight to outline the dramatic womanliness of her body. She is tall – with the shoes even taller – and can dominate any room effortlessly. Beside the older woman the contrast is striking. The fading old lion, and the one in it’s prime.

Suga’s mother is swirling wine in a glass, tapping the sole of her shoe against the edge of the polished coffee table, her long legs crossed at the knee. She is a stunning woman, Suga knows. And she terrifies him.

“Koushi,” her eyes move to him accusingly and Suga’s own brown irises fix fearfully on the floor as the weight of her presence seems to physically push him down. The urge to drop, to submit, surges through him. He struggles against it, but it is hard to resist.

“Mother,” he manages to greet her.

She considers his school tracksuit with distaste. "Put something more suitable on," she instructs him. "Then come here and serve us. Call your father here too. I have something important to discuss with you."

“Yes...” he agrees quickly, and shuffles backwards on his knees out of the room to the relative safety of the hallway. Once away from the strong alpha stench in the living room he pants in the air to calm himself down. Some of the members of the team, he knows very well, are powerful alphas too. Daichi, he thinks of first. But others too. He is mostly immune to them but they are boys – mere children - compared to the intensity of his mother. 

For a brief moment he wonders whether, in the near future, Daichi will have the power to send him falling to his knees quite like that. Whether just the look in his eyes or the displeasure in his voice will be enough to send Suga dribbling and urinating in submission.

The thought is mortifying.

He makes a quick run upstairs to change into a traditional omega robe of the kind his mother prefers - silken and light, with long elegant sleeves and loose around his legs, held closed with delicate bows. He takes a moment to look in the mirror. He doesn't mind omega dress particularly, though he spends more time in tracksuits and sweats. It is very elegant, he notes. The collar low at his neck, revealing the pale smoothness of his unmarked throat. The simple cut of the silk emphasising the leanness of his body. The length of his fingers. He looks so different from his usual school sportswear. He half wonders what his teammates would say if they could see him like this. He deflates a little. Who is he kidding? They'd probably laugh themselves into fits.

He descends to the kitchen, wondering what could be so important that his mother would return early from work to talk to him.

He soon returns to the living room with his father and the tea tray. The two omegas sit on the floor by the table and serve the tea up to the alphas. It is another tradition. Suga knows full well that both his mother and grandmother would prefer the wine over the tea. Decorum dictates, however, that omegas serve. Holding a wine bottle does not reflect the delicate omega sensitivity that pouring fragranced tea into china cups does. Neither of the omega men are ever permitted to touch alcohol. It would be uncouth.

His mother takes a sip of the boiling hot liquid and set the cup down.

“Your father and I have decided,” she says finally, “that you are to enter a mating contract.”

Suga is silent for a moment digesting this – his mother’s big announcement. He very slowly sets the tea pot down and sits back on his heels. For a moment he doesn’t know what to say. He steals a glance at his father from the corner of his eye only to see the man looking as blind-sided as he feels. Clearly his mother’s interpretation of “your father and I” is in fact merely “I”.

“But I… haven’t finished school yet...” he manages to respond finally, keeping his eyes low, somehow retaining his calm. They’d agreed at the start of high school that he could remain at a mixed school, and remain on the volleyball team, until he’d graduated. After that he’d fully expected they would demand he be bonded. That is just how his family is. But this? Now?

“All the more reason,” his grandmother blurts out, lifting a finger and pointing it at him. “An unmated omega around all those prime young alphas all day? You’re a disaster waiting to happen!”

“But I’m...” he shakes his head slightly, nervous of contradicting them outright, knowing he’ll be punished for it. He has to argue his way out of this one without making it look like he is arguing with them.

“Are you a slut?” his mother demands with a disgusted sneer. “Is that what you want to be? You enjoy all those alphas sniffing at your slick? I can smell you from here!”

Suga lifts his eyes, confused. “That isn’t…”

“Filthy!” his grandmother lets out a screech. “Shameful!”

Suga bites back his indignation. They aren’t to be argued with. It won’t work. He has to be cleverer than that. He has to think of… some… reason… some way to make them understand. Things are different now from when his parents were young. Society has changed. Suppressors are readily available. Alphas are not just slaves to their instincts. Omegas are not just dangerous temptations to pull unwary alphas into a life of lust and depravity. They are all just… people. And mixed schools like his are proof that alpha and omega can coexist as peers, perhaps even as equals, without heralding the collapse of society.

It is now possible to live as an omega without the necessity of an alpha mate. Omegas can hold jobs. Omegas can succeed in school and in society on their own terms, and not just as a pretty fuck toy hanging on the arm of some powerful alpha mogul. The suppressors keep them safe. It isn’t necessary to be scented, or claimed, by an alpha mate in order to keep other dangerous alphas at bay.

Not being mated isn’t synonymous with asking to be raped.

He spends almost every day sweating and showering and training with eleven alphas. Eleven! And he’s never once felt unsafe. None of them have ever tried anything with him. None of them show the least bit of interest in him.

Yes, compared to his parent’s time in which strict segregation and early mating was the only way to keep an omega safe, things are different now. 

Except some things that don’t change. Such as the potency of his mother’s scent drifting in his nose, curling around his mind, bending him to her will, forcing him to submit with a mere flash of her hormones. Society has changed, he knows. He just isn’t sure about biology.

He hasn’t answered her, and she is getting impatient. She is the alpha, the decision-maker. He the lowly omega who bows his head and accepts. He can’t think of anything to say. Her mere presence seems to render him mute.

“You’ll take part in a mating trial,” she informs him crisply.

He gasps and this time really does look up into her face. “No...” he begins to protest, but under her stare, his eyes begin to water. An inconvenient omega reaction. He struggles to form a sentence. “Not… that. Please...”

“It is the best way to assess your compatibility with a potential mate,” his grandmother barks at him. “It’s traditional. I met your grandfather through a mating trial.”

“Yes,” his mother nods, “and that is how I met your father too.”

Suga turns his unhappy eyes to his father beside him for conformation, but the older male does not meet his gaze. His eyes are fixed determinedly on the ground, his head bowed before his alpha. He will not speak up on Suga’s behalf. He never has.

“Then...” Suga manages to gasp, clutching tightly at the few straws that he has. He knows he has no way to counter their decision. They give no weight to his thoughts, his feelings, his concerns, his reasoning. He is a doll to them. Something they can play with. A bird among cats, “...let me choose the alphas who will participate," he begs.

His mother tilts her head. “You may make applications,” she agrees. “But I will decide who to approve.” She holds up her hand with four long fingers, each tipped by a sharp red painted nail perfectly manicured. “Three alphas,” she tells him. "More than that and there's a risk of... damage."

Damage?

Suga swallows anxiously. His eyes are drawn to the shape of her fingers. Three long, rounded probes. Each representing an alpha he will be forced into the company of.

“Your heat starts in three days,” his mother informs him, as if he didn’t already know. “I expect you to be ready.”

In his mind, he is screaming in injustice.

In reality he bends down, putting his face to the floor in submission to her will. The scent of her overpowers him and any protest he might have made. He hates it and yet can’t help feeling a little relieved that at least his submissive posture hides the humiliated tears that have sprung up in his eyes. He won’t give her that satisfaction, at least.

* * *

Later, in his room, he agonises over what to do. Who on earth should he ask? That absolutely preposterous question: _Excuse me, but I'm an omega looking for a mate. Would you like to fuck me?_

He curls his hands into angry fists.

The only people that comes to his mind are... his teammates. What other alphas does he know? Three, his mother had said. He counts them off uncertainly on his hand. Asahi? That should be okay. Nishinoya? He hesitates. His mind curls slowly around to... Dachi? He winces visibly.

How can he possibly ask them? Aren't they the last people he wants to be there? To see him humiliated?

He twists his hands together.

On the other hand, if he doesn't come up with something – some kind of plan - he'll end up in a mating contract. He’ll be bound to some alpha he doesn't know. Forced to share a marriage bed with a stranger. Perhaps forbidden to play on the team, or even pulled out of school, at the whim of his alpha. He knows full well that whatever his alpha decides, he will be forced to obey. It would be the end of any dreams he has of being independent. Of being a professional athelete. Of being anything other than a pair of legs and an ass to fuck.

Is his pride really worth giving up on his dreams?

He bites his lip and tries to reconcile himself to the fact that the two halves of his life that he has managed to keep separate for so long might be about to collide in the most disastrous possible way.

* * *

That is how he comes to be sitting in the changing rooms, facing his three dearest friends, and asking them the hardest and strangest thing he’s ever asked anyone before in his life.

“My mother wants me to participate in a mating trial,” he manages to squeak the words out.

They all look at him, suitably scandalised.

Nishinoya, Asahi, and Daichi. Three alphas. His fate.

“Are you serious?” Nishinoya blurts out in surprise.

“That’s barbaric,” Asahi exclaims, appalled.

Daichi is only silent, watching him with those warm, concerned eyes.

“It’s to form a mating contract, right?” Nishinoya demands curiously. “You might get hitched! Do you really wanna get mated or something, Suga? Who’s the omega?”

There is an awkward silence.

Suga can’t help the way tears sprung up in his eyes. He runs a hand under his nose and sniffs miserably.

“Yu,” Daichi’s voice is quiet and composed, “Suga is the omega.”

Nishinoya flushes red. “Oh,” he squeaks. “Oooh-” he looks hugely uncomfortable. “Oh…. no. Oh that’s… that’s bad. Right? That’s… that’s really bad. Sorry I… I always… forget.”

Suga blows his nose anxiously. ‘That’s… that’s okay I...” he takes a shuddering breath. “I don’t really know what to do… I...” he lifts his eyes anxiously. “I was hoping maybe… what if… you guys… were the alphas?”

The three of them stare back at him, momentarily dumbstruck.

“You… you… you want us to mate with you, Suga?” Nishinoya demands in astonishment.

Suga quickly lifts his hands and shakes his head emphatically. “No! No. No, I don’t want anyone to mate with me. That’s… that’s why I’m… asking you. You're... used to me. You scent me all the time. What if we get through the trial without… anything happening?”

Asahi puts his fingers to his chin. “Hmmm. What does the trial involve anyway?”

Suga tpresses his palms flat against the top of his thighs, feeling unnaturally hot. It's embarrassing even to talk about. “It’s twenty four hours," he forces himself to explain, "during my heat. We just have to stay in a room together, I think. Traditionally we would – you know – mate. Then the alpha that is most compatible would form a mating contract afterwards. But obviously we... don’t have to do that.”

“What do you mean, compatible?” Asahi presses him anxiously.

“I, uhm...” Suga can’t seem to help flushing red, looking down at his shoes. He knows his teammates will think he is acting strangely. They’ve never seen this omega-like side to him. But he cann’t seem to help it. What with his heat around the corner and the topic under discussion. He can no sooner raise his eyes from the floor than lift rocks with his mind. “Actually I’m not sure...”

Asahi and Nishinoya fold their arms and look unsure. Suga keeps his eyes on the floor.

“Twenty four hours...” Asahi muses. “Well, that’s easy. I mean, we’re with you all the time. We’ve just gotta keep our dicks in our pants for a day. How hard can it be?”

“Right!” Nishinoya agrees readily. “Besides… you’re… you’re Suga. It’s not like… like you’re… you know...” he chews over his words, “...I mean, you’re not like a real omega, you know?”

“Yeah. It’s not like anyone actually wants to fuck you, or anything,” Asahi nods along. “Because that would be so weird.”

They all look at Daichi. He doesn’t seem to notice them there.

“Captain?” Nishinoya prods him in the side with his elbow. “What about you?”

“Oh...” Daichi turns to look at them, coming out of whatever thoughts he was having. “Oh it’s… it’s traditional, right? My parents and grandparents met at a mating trial. I… I always expected that I would participate in one. It’s not that weird.” He realises they are all staring at him. “What?”

‘That wasn’t the question,” Nishinoya frowns at him.

“It wasn’t?”

“You’re from a traditional family too, Captain?”

“Yeah, pretty traditional. My grandparents are really strict but my parents aren't so much."

“Do you think you can go twenty four hours without accidentally fucking Suga?” Nishinoya demands, jabbing him in the chest with his index finger.

Daichi flushes and stares back at him. He studiously avoids Suga’s face. “...yes?”

Nishinoya’s face breaks into a smile and he slaps Daichi heartily on the shoulder, “Then good! Welcome to Trial Team Alpha!”

“Your parents will have to apply on your behalf,” Suga warns them. 

"It's cool. My parents will be pretty stoked. They'd be keen for me to, you know, find a mate and uh, settle down quickly," Asahi admits.

"Yeah that definitely won't be a problem," Nishinoya agrees casually.

Daichi slowly nods his head. "It's... pretty much expected of me," he acknowledges.

“I uhm..." Suga manages to glance up at each of them for a moment, "...thank you." 

Nishinoya beams at him. “It’ll be fine,” he says brightly. “We'll come up with some kind of plan. You can just… stay on one side of the room, and we’ll be on the other. We can make sure no one gets crazy, you know, with the pheromones or whatever floating around.”

"Yeah, the team needs you!" Asahi points out. "Can't lose you to some random alpha who might not let you play anymore, right?"

Suga stares at him for a moment before nodding silently. For the first time since his mother sprung this ridiculous situation on him, he feels a little calmer. They understand. They know the stakes. What he might lose. And they're... on his side. They're willing to help him.

He feels a huge, gut-felt sense of relief.

It’s only once Suga has left that Daichi turns to the others and asks, “Have you guys ever actually been around an omega on heat before?”

They all shake their heads.

“Don’t you think we’ll… you know… be affected? Maybe?”

“Come on, it’s Suga,” Nishinoya repeats again. “Who would want to mate with him? I mean, he's not exactly what you fantasise about when you rut, is he?"

Daichi decides not to answer that.

"He's just not omega," Nishinoya continues. "He's just... one of us. How hard can it be?”

"I don't know-" Asahi muses thoughtfully. "There's alphas that go for his type, you know. I've seen it. In porn."

Nishinoya looks surprised. "What? Why?"

"Oh come on, you see it all the time..." Asahi crosses his arms and leans back. "You know the type. They get some independent, modern omega. You know, making money, powerful job. Then they discipline them. Break them down and put them back in their place, you know. Total humiliation. It's kinda hot."

Nishinoya pales. "Discipline?" he echoes. "You mean like spanking?"

"Yeah, sure. And other stuff too. Why not? They're omega, after all. They all like a firm hand, right? They all want to be dominated at the end of the day. It's natural."

"Yeah but - but – Suga!"

"That's what makes it good," Asahi insists. "Cos he'd hate it, right? He'd fight it. And that's the point. That's why it's hot."

"Oh, my god shut up!" Nishinoya lifts his hands to cover his ears. "You can't be serious."

Asahi shrugs. "I'm telling you, there's alphas that love that stuff."

Daichi only shakes his head in vague disbelief.

Yeah, Suga isn't exactly the omega type. Not the sort that Daichi goes for anyway. He likes them shy. Obedient. He fantasises over their lowered eyes and eagerness to please. But nothing about Suga is exactly submissive. Daichi is a little surprised to learn that his family is strict enough and traditional enough to even put him into a mating trial, because at school there's so little to suggest that he's not one of these new breed modern omegas bent on independence. He would never have pegged Suga as coming from a traditionalist family. It's a little confusing.

He sighs to himself. Yeah, so what if Daichi's found himself watching the back of his neck from time to time? Wondering what it would be like to pin him down and make him surrender. It's only an idling curiosity. Does it make his cock twitch a bit? Well maybe. Sometimes. But that's just because that's what alpha cocks do.

Has he thought about him in a rut? Sure. A few times, perhaps. But then again a rut sends him so far into blind horniness he'd fuck a cactus if given the chance. It doesn't mean anything.

Still, Daichi isn’t totally sure that this whole trial thing will be quite as straightforward as the others seem to think.

* * *

Two days later, Suga's heart feels like it's going to pound right out of his chest. He hates this. Twice a year he lets his heat run its natural course free of suppressors. It's the standard doctor's instructions. Suppressing heats indefinitely can give rise to health issues, so allowing the body to go through its cycle twice a year is normal for most omegas. Usually he confines himself to his room, wrapped up in blankets for a few days, digging his fingers into his own ass in seek of some blessed relief. It's all-consuming. A horrible, out of control feeling, his mind giving way to the basic animal of his body. He hates going through it. It isn't the same as masturbating. The first few orgasms are usually okay. But after that it's just two days of soreness and agony. An itch that cannot be scratched. His fingers not going deep enough to give him any real relief. None of the alpha pheromones that - so he's heard - calm the heat. No. Just him and his fingers and more tissues than he can count as he grinds his sore swollen cock against the bed and cries with frustration.

Right now his heat is coming on strongly. Though his mind remains focused, his body feels so uncharacteristically weak he can barely remain upright. Just as well, then, that his only task is to kneel beside his mother and wait while the negotiations are made. Apparently his presence is an essential part of the pre-trial ritual. The hopeful alphas have some right to smell him, to ensure he really is in this unbelievably vulnerable state, to ensure that the trial they will enter is worth the effort. He doesn't catch everything that is said, too distracted by the horrible sensations stirring up in his body. But the scents... the scents he recognises well. Asahi. Nishinoya. Daichi. Comforting. Familiar. The smell of alpha tickles his nose temptingly. Saliva rising on his tongue. 

They all come one by one before his mother together with their parents to formally request participation in the trial. And one by one his mother sizes them up as potential mates. She wants to know about the families they come from. Their prospects for the future. She measures their worth by the only two things that matter for an alpha - the strength to defend their omega, and the ability to make money. Whether they be kind or cruel, pessimistic or optimistic in their outlook, handsome or haggard, gentle or ferocious, whether they should care for their omega or whether they should merely seek to possess him, none of these things matter to her.

Still, just as the three alphas anticipated, there was no objection from their parents when it came to permission to join. Participating in a mating trial is still seen as rather a prestigious way to find a mate. Trials themselves are becoming rarer than they were in the past, spurred on by increasing omega-rights awareness, more and more omegas being given freer choices in finding their mates, and the general old-fashioned and somewhat barbaric reputation of a trial has reduced its modern relevance. Yet as trials increase in rarity, they also become increasingly exclusive. Only the most traditional and therefore most valuable omegas are typically still offered by trial. 

And for an alpha to win a trial, well. That would put a metaphorical feather in any family's hat.

Asahi is presented first, represented by a stooped and greying alpha who seems to be his grandfather. Not an old family nor a traditional one, yet Suga gets the distinct impression that his mother is impressed. And why not? Even without good breeding, Asahi is everything an alpha should be. Strong, powerful. And besides, Asahi's scent is utterly divine at that moment. Suga's heat-addled body causes him to breathe in rapidly, the scent of Asahi filling his sinuses. His stomach twists. He tries to hold it back. Tries hard not to react. Yet between his cheeks, he feels his hole clench hard, and to his horror he feels a thick dribble of fragrant slick leak out of him. More than one pair of alpha eyes are drawn towards him at that moment, pulled in by the omega scent that immediately diffuses into the air.

Asahi had been keeping his eyes low, apparently embarassed to see Suga on his knees, his cheeks flushed, dressed in traditional feminine robes and being traded like a piece of meat.

But now he reacts at once, his whole body stiffening, his nostrils flaring wide, a look of sudden confusion racing across his face. He has smelt it, Suga knows. Suga shifts his weight, but it only causes a little more slick to drip down his skin. His eyes meet Asahi's and for the first time he sees uncertainty there. The way the apple in his throat bobs nervously. A little shimmer of sweat that appears on his brow. Suga stares at him in silence, his brow furrowing just a little. 

Asahi's face is pale. But then he seems to steel himself, and even manages a small nod for Suga as his permission to participate is formally approved, as if in reassurance. Suga feels a mixture of relief and fierce anxiety.

The next to be presented is Daichi. Reliable, smooth, competent Daichi. He doesn't have the physical stature of Asahi but he does have what the other alpha lacks - family. Suga's mother laps up the name Sawamura like a cat with cream. Doubtless she is aware of the other traditional families in the area and, for some reason that Suga doesn't know, the name of Daichi’s family seems to impress her. The alpha who is Daichi's father is dressed in a suit, well built and masculine. He is handsome like his son. A smooth talker he converses with Suga's mother easily, as if he is used to dealing with powerful people on a daily basis. He is calm and collected. And yet Suga's eyes are only on Daichi himself. Dragging their way over him, soothing himself with that warm alpha scent he has always found most appealing. His body seems to quicken a little in anticipation. For no matter how much he tries to convince himself again and again that this heat - like all his other heats - will be painful and unfulfilled, his body has other ideas. Alpha! it thrums with excitement, seeming to be working itself up into a slick-dripping frenzy.

He imagines what is going to happen over the next twenty four hours. He hopes there will be somewhere he can go, hide, and be alone. Some quiet corner, perhaps. Just a little piece of privacy. Perhaps he can cover himself with a coat or shirt. He does not particularly want his friends to see him masturbating and yet, he has already come to terms with the fact that it is pretty much inevitable. He cannot withstand the pain of the heat without some relief. Even if it is just his fingers. Perhaps they'll steal glances at him over there, fingering himself in the corner. Perhaps they'll manage to ignore him completely. Nishinoya said he was going to bring along some Uno cards. Perhaps that will keep them distracted.

He closes his eyes and breathes Daichi's scent deeper. It fills him with warmth. With calmness. With the sense that he ought to surrender. Push his face to the floor and let this alpha take control of him. To care for him. Protect him. Hold him down and fuck him. Fulfil all of his needs. Put his teeth into Suga's neck, demand his submission, and eliminate the pain of this unbearable heat with the long smooth slide of his cock. Suga almost whines aloud with the desire, his temperature spiking for a moment, releasing another wave of powerful omega pheromones that waft into Daichi's nose and blow his pupils open wide. It's only when his mother's long sharp nails dig aggressively into the back of his neck that Suga comes back to his senses abruptly. He realises that he was tipping forward, completely subconsciously, intent on offering his neck to Daichi.

"Not yet," she hisses at him in admonition.

His eyes widen in astonishment at his own actions, knowing that his heat is by now pushing him well beyond the point of self-control. He dares not even lift his eyes to see if Daichi noticed his embarrassing action or not.

Suffice to say, Daichi receives his mother's approval.

Nishinoya is the last. Perhaps if he had been the first, the approval would have been slower coming, for he is not of particularly impressive stature for an alpha, and his family - while respectable - has a far more liberal bent. As it is, however, Suga's mother is already well satisfied by the two alphas first presented, and thus the last is in her eyes merely a spare. Just one more to complete the number. And as she does not wish to delay, she approves him with little fanfare.

Suga beside her drifts in a hazy world of heat and hormones, rolling Nishinoya's scent on his tongue, whimpering just a little, and not failing to notice the rapidly hardening length pressing thick against the front of Nishinoya's trousers. He licks his lips subconsciously.

* * *

Outside, while Nishinoya is obtaining his approval, Daichi is speaking in a low voice to his father.

"You don't have to do this, you know," his father is telling him gently.

Daichi only shrugs. "It's fine. I don't mind."

"I know your grandmother is keen, but really. Remember that this is a binding contract. If you succeed in the trial, you'll have to bond with that boy. Is that what you really want? You're still young."

Daichi shrugs again, a little evasively. "It's fine." He licks his lips nervously, his thoughts drifting back to Suga. The flattering shape of the traditional robes that clung to his body, surprisingly feminine. The demure posture of his kneeling form. The way he'd looked shyly at Daichi, his lowered eyes not quite disguising that lust. He has never seen Suga like that before. Never thought of him in those terms before. It is as if the whole world had tipped upside down. And the possibilities…

He recalls some of the strange things Asahi had spoken about - a proud omega, discipline, humiliation. Spanking? Daichi had never thought himself one to be turned on by such things. But at this moment…

It grinds hard in his stomach. The contradiction. Suga as his friendly and competent teammate, or Suga... as his submissive mate? He imagines what he could do to him. What he is expected to do to him. And who would blame him? It's only natural.

He feels unhappy and confused.

Daichi has always felt affection for his omega friend, perhaps even a little curiosity. But how could he never have noticed this side of him before? And the smell of him. Daichi feels it in his gut, reaching right down into his depths and calling to him. His cock is already aching at the mere memory of it. What the hell?

"He's - he's - something though, right?" he queries of his father, half hoping for a denial. Some sense. Hoping that his father will reprimand him and say that he is just imagining it. That he isn't meant to feel this strongly about someone as un-omega as Suga. That Suga isn't suitable. Isn't good stock. That he isn't meant to already be imagining how it will taste when he pushes his tongue into Suga's pulsing hole and drinks him straight down his throat.

His father runs a hair through his hair and sighs. "Yes. Yes. He's something, I'll give you that. From a good family too. But remember that he's going into heat. There's not an alpha in the world that can resist an omega in heat. So just because he's irresistible to you now doesn't mean that you will feel the same years down the line. A bond is permanent, remember?"

Daichi moves his feet a little anxiously. "I- I know. I guess-" he sighs.

"Listen," his father says seriously, "If he's really what you want then let me speak to his mother. She obviously favours you and I'm sure we can come to an arrangement. You don't need to go through a trial and nor does he. It's... damaging. I know it's traditional, but it's really not a practise I approve of."

Daichi shakes his head. "No. No. It's okay. Koshi... wants it this way."

"Does he now?"

Daichi nods, but inside he remains uncertain. He considers confessing the whole thing to his father. That the trial is a sham. That they - the three alphas - have already agreed to abstain, in the hope that this might buy Suga's independence for a little longer. On the other hand he worries what might go wrong. What if one of them simply cannot resist? What if he is the one who can't resist? What if they are found out? What if, even though they abstain, one of them is forced to bond with Suga anyway? 

And lastly, to his own mortification he worries that if he does not take this chance to fight for his claim, perhaps the opportunity to take an omega like Koshi Sugawara as his mate will never come to him again.

"A trial isn't a good foundation for a bonding," his father is telling him. "It's a steep learning curve, and not everyone can climb it. It's not all about mindless biology, you know. What you need to build is trust. An understanding. A bridge between your wolf and his. Unfortunately most trials end up quite the opposite of that. Too many omegas get physically forced into submitting. That's not how good relationships begin."

Trust.

Daichi's eyes fix on the floor. Suga is trusting the three of them, he recalls. He came to them for help. He told them clearly that he didn't want anyone to mate with him. No matter what happens, Daichi tries to convince himself, he must not be the one to betray him.

But it really doesn't seem like it will be easy.

Soon they are called back into the hall as things are ready to begin.

* * *

From this point on, Suga does not know what to expect. It wasn't explained to him in any detail. Just that they will be alone - him and his three potential mates - and should one be found compatible, the contract will be formed and he will become property of that alpha.

Of course he hopes that they will be left alone soon so that they can discuss what to do, make many some arrangements, take some precautions. Give him time to warn his teammates of the crippling effect his heat is starting to have on him. Find himself a place to hide and then probably finger himself frantically until time runs out.

This is not, however, what happens at all.

First of all he is taken hold of by two of his alpha cousins and is brought to stand on a low podium in front of the three alphas and their families. He feels weak with the heat, and his legs tremble a little, so they have to hold him up. They hold his arms out to the side so he feels like a puppet on display, his body available for inspection. This would not be so bad except that his mother then approaches him with a silent and stern expression on her face, and begins to remove his robe. She unties the tiny bows that hold it shut, drawing it partially off his shoulders, letting it part.

"I-" he tries to move away, feeling surprised and confused. Nobody told him about this. "Wait - what are – I-"

He moves as if he intends to step down from the podium, but a firm grip on the back of his neck from the cousin on his left makes him slump, abruptly, weak at the knees. His neck is his weakness. Twin pressure points on either side of his spine, where an alpha's firm bite is enough to sink him five feet down into submissiveness. It is highly evolved biology, he has been taught at school. A clever way to protect an omega from harm during mating. A way to keep them still and pliant and loose while an alpha fucks into them. A way to minimise the damage.

Yes, it infuriates him just a little that he is so highly evolved to survive his own rape.

Though he can't fight physically, he still tries to snarl warningly at his mother – something he wouldn’t dream of doing outside of heat - but she ignores him.

She drags away his robe, and shivers rise over his bare skin.

Being naked isn't something shameful, he tells himself angrily as the cool air touches him and he is forced to stand bare to their eyes. His teammates have seen him naked, after all, plenty of times. They share a changing room. Share showers. It's nothing odd. 

And yet this is different. At school they are all equals. A team. But this is degrading. Being naked is nothing shameful. Yet being naked in a roomful of people who are fully clothed, he learns in this instance, is horribly dehumanising.

However Suga is torn between furious indignation and sense of relief as the cool air of the hall touches his over-heated skin. He's never been able to bear wearing clothes during his heat, and now is no different. His sensitive nipples in particular are relieved to be free of the constrictive rubbing of the silk robe. His head tilts back a little at the pleasant sensation, baring his throat. He swallows down the lewd little groan sticking on his lips. He knows so many eyes are upon him, he can feel them prickling over him like needles, but he tries not to care.

Fuck you, he decides. He can do nothing else. The firm, controlling grip on the back of his neck silences any protests. He tries to gurgle his anger, but isn't sure he succeeds.

They walk around him then, staring at him from every angle. His pale skin, rosebud nipples, perfect abs and pert ass. His small omega cock is hard and seeping before him, twitching only slightly as if in shyness. A quiet splatter sounds, and it's a short moment before Suga realises that a puddle of slick is forming on the floor between his feet. His arousal is literally dripping from him, running down his thighs. His embarrassment only seems to make it flow faster. He flushes red and notices that his teammates don't seem to know where to look. Asahi is staring at the floor, watching the slick puddle with an expression of vague horror. Nishinoya is watching the wall nearby, avoiding looking at Suga's naked body at all. Only Daichi is looking directly at him, his pupils blown, his lips parted. Their eyes meet. Electricity surges down Suga's spine, straight into his exposed cock, making it throb and twitch. He can't hold back his groan.

The two voices in his head are shouting over one another. Fuck you, fuck you! he tries to maintain the thought, clinging on to his anger and indignation. 

Alpha, another part of his mind is moaning and begging. Please. Oh, please, please. His nostrils flare and he realises that he can smell it - how much they want him. What they are imagining doing to him. He can smell it, and he can see it too right there, in Daichi's heated eyes.

It gives him a little lurch of pleasure in his gut.

They finish their inspection of him and gather back at the front where Suga's mother holds up an object for the gathered alphas to see. Suga does not get a good look but it resembles a metal ring. She hands it over to the first - Asahi's grandfather - who tests it with his fingers as if to see if it will break. It is then passed on down the line and every alpha tries it, although Suga can tell from their uncertain expressions that his teammates do not know what it is supposed to be, or what exactly they are testing it for.

Too big for his finger. Too narrow for his wrist. He is genuinely curious when it is eventually returned to his mother and she approaches him with it in hand.

What on earth could she mean to do with-?

He lets out a reflexive gasp when her large cold hands seize his genitals and force the slightly too-tight ring over the head of his cock. His body tries to jerk away, but she continues, pushing it right down to the base where it sits tight and a little bit painful against his hair. She handles him dispassionately, without care. Like a doctor on his way to see another patient.

He can't help whimpering. It is digging in already, uncomfortable and frustrating. His heat always drives him relentlessly towards orgasm. He needs relief, desperately. Even when it hurts. But like this... like this... with mounting horror he realises that he won't be able to orgasm at all. He can't imagine getting through his heat without being able to- what if- oh, oh - shit. They can't do this to him. They can't-

He closes his eyes and hisses anxiously. Pain has begun to build in his gut. The hole between his cheeks is clenching and unclenching frantically now. The slick dribbles thicker and faster, filling the air with his pheromones. The urge to grind against something, to penetrate himself with something, multiplies ten fold when his only other source of relief is cut off by the ring.

He begins to pray that they will leave soon. Soon. Now. Immediately. This is simply torture. He needs to do something to relieve himself.

But they are not finished with him yet.

A bar is set between his ankles, fastened with leather straps, forcing his legs open. To his shame, the lewd position only makes the slick flow faster.

Then a wooden frame is set before him. It is just a thin horizontal bar supported by triangular legs at either end. He is quickly bent over it, the wooden bar pressing into his stomach, his head towards the floor. His wrists are bound to the legs of the frame, close to the ground, unbalancing him so that he is forced to lean all his weight onto it. Helpless and immobile, his ass high in the air, his legs held open, and his unhappy little cock weeping a slow dribble of nothing through the constricting ring. He can't touch himself. He can't fucking move. And the heat begins to roar through him like a furnace. The pain. The pain. He needs - he needs - oh, oh fuck. Fuck!

And the worst thing - surely the worst thing - is how much this mortifying situation is turning him on. He is presenting. Fucking presenting. His traitorous little hole is begging for it. And he wants it. He wants it so badly.

And it is then that he begins to cry in frustration, realising what they have done to him. Knowing finally how this little game is meant to be played. Realising how appallingly he has already lost.

"Whichever of you," he hears his mother say solemnly to his three startled teammates, "makes him orgasm through that ring, shall have claim to him."

And then finally they are alone.

His teammates exchange astonished looks with one another, wondering what the hell they are supposed to do now. They really weren't prepared for... this.

They can quite clearly see the shimmering virginal hole between Suga's parted cheeks that twitches and moves and smells absolutely fucking divine. Right there for them. Laid out, beckoning, ready to be pierced.

They recognise the position Suga is bound in too. It is a full, classic, standing presentation. Forced, admittedly. But instinct and hormones don't really care for little details like that. They learned about it in their sex education classes, and have identified and labeled it during term exams, but none of them have ever seen anything but wobbly-drawn diagrams to explain it. Certainly nothing in their textbooks ever came close to describing this. And this feeling. The want. The need. They all feel it pulling them in with a force beyond reason. An omega, high in heat, presenting to them. It seems in that moment quite impossible to do anything else except claim him.

Suga is sniffing and snivelling quite miserably but they hardly notice that. They - all of them - can do nothing but stare. And stare. And swallow. And stare.

For a while, nothing happens.

Then Suga lets out a groan and they startle back to reality.

"Please, please- no," he whispers. "Please, I need, no, please, ah! Please- ugh, ah, ah, ah, oh, ngh!" he groans again, a shiver running through him, his little upside down face flushed red and full of tears. The words he speaks seem to oscillate between wanting them to keep away and begging them to step closer. The hypnotising omega scent lifts in another wave, and Asahi actually takes one dazed step forward before Daichi grabs his arm and pulls him back.

"No," he growls. "We can't."

"Uno?" Nishinoya asks them in a harsh whisper. Asahi licks his lips anxiously.

Daichi takes charge and herds them all to the furtherest possible corner of the room. None of them dare to approach Suga. Not to undo his binds or ask if he's okay or what he wants or thinks or needs. Staying away is already taxing them to the absolute limit of their endurance.

Nishinoya gets out the game cards but they don't really play. They move the cards around idly, not seeing them or focusing on anything but the sounds of Suga's breathing, his moans, and pleading that goes straight to their cocks.

"Please-" he begs from across the room, his words punctuated by desperate little sobs. "Alpha. Alpha. Please. I need you. Please. Alpha. Please." It doesn't sound like he's addressing them in particular. Just anyone. He's been reduced to a twitchy little hole that needs a rod to fill it up.

"It fucking hurts," Nishinoya is the first to admit after a while, his hand pressing down against his erection, trying to push it back down into himself without any success whatsoever. "This is worse than a rut."

"Ten times worse than a rut," Asahi snaps back. The hormones are already making them aggressive. Daichi hopes they won't end up fighting.

"He doesn't even know our names," Daichi tries to reason with them, tries to convince them not to give in. "He's not himself. It's the heat talking."

"Yeah but, he's like, really in heat. He needs cock," Nishinoya argues. "It's biology. I read an article once about an omega who died cos his heat was unfulfilled."

"That's ridiculous," Daichi dismisses quickly.

"It's true! He was in a car accident and broke all his limbs. At the hospital they had him all in casts, but didn't realise his heat was coming on. The next morning when they found him, he was dead. It was the blood pressure or something."

"Ridiculous," Daichi repeats, "you read so much rubbish." But he doesn't feel all that sure. Can an unfulfilled heat be dangerous? He can't remember. Certainly when he tries to imagine going through a rut without being able to touch himself it frightens him a bit. Could it kill him? Yeah, maybe. He half believes it. Blood pressure? That sounds kind of feasible.

His eyes go back to Suga. He is still there. Still presenting. Still waiting. Just dribbling slick and moaning and crying. He is so pathetic, it makes Daichi's cock flush darkly. God, some part of him wants it so badly. Wants to know what it feels like to claim him.

His mind supplies the necessary imagery and then - oh, shit-! - he lurches forward with a sudden groan as his mind, caught up in the smell and his own lewd imaginings, makes his pleasure peak. He slaps a hand down hard on his own cock, only to feel a damp liquid filling his pants. "Shit!" he growls, disbelief in his voice. He just came in anticipation. "Shit!" How fucking strong are these fucking pheromones?

The others laugh at him. But he can see they're nervous. They're laughing but it's not fucking funny. They're both sporting agonisingly painful erections too. Just a little friction on the fabric of their pants, plus a little imagination helped along by Suga's unbelievably delicious scent, and the same could happen to them. Daichi rolls his eyes at them.

They keep on not-playing in unhappy silence for another fifteen crappy minutes. The scent of hot omega twists in the air, catching in their noses, tempting them more and more as the time crawls by.

Daichi glances at his watch. They're forty five minutes in. More than twenty three hours remain. Some part of him is already resigned to the inevitable. He doesn't like it, but can't say he's exactly disappointed.

"I can't do this," Asahi says after a while. His eyes are closed and he's weaving a little where he sits. There's sweat dripping down the side of his face. "This is impossible."

"I have to fuck something," Nishinoya agrees, shuffling the Uno cards distractedly. "I have to. My cock is going to burst."

Daichi feels too exhausted to argue. He feels it too. He can't honestly pretend that he doesn't feel exactly the same. Still, he has to at least say... something.

"A bond is permanent," he mumbles dazedly. Not his own words, just trying to cling on to something that his father said. "Trust," he adds. "We need... trust."

What the hell does that even mean?

He doesn't know. Yet somehow it's enough to keep him sitting where he is while the other two get to their feet.

"It'll be fine," Nishinoya is explaining. "We don't have to bond with him unless he comes. They didn't say anything about us coming."

"And that ring looks pretty tight," Asahi points out quietly.

"Exactly."

* * *

Suga is so aroused he feels like he could pass out. His whole body is trembling. He is grateful for the restraints holding him in place. They anchor him, giving him support, safety. A feeling that this is where he is meant to be. The leather could be an alpha's firm handholds, pinning him down, bending him over and taking control of him.

He wants that. Needs it. More than anything. To feel like someone is there who knows what to do. To know that someone will master him.

He soothes himself with the aroused alpha scent that curls heady throughout the room. Lets it roll on his tongue and saturate his pores.

They will come for him, he tells himself. They will be there for him. It is what they are meant to do. They will hold him and relieve him of this unbearable heat. Fill him with their cocks and their cum and he will love every second of them tearing him apart.

He drinks in the scent of them, whimpering quietly. Whatever part of him didn't want this to happen is silent now in the face of his unassailable biology, the restraints on his limbs, and the shame of his presenting hole that only licks the flames higher and higher and feels so, so fucking right. 

He really is, he reflects drunkenly, just a hole waiting to be filled. All those silly dreams and ambitions he used to pretend to have are pale in comparison to his reality. Omega. That's what he is. Nothing in his pretty little head but alpha and cock. And right now he doesn't particularly care.

A warm hand on his flank startles him and he opens his eyes to see two pairs of shoes upside down in his vision.

He whines, a little saliva dribbling from his lips.

Oh. Please, please, please.

He doesn't know who they are beyond the unmistakable scent of alpha. He doesn't care either. He has one need at the moment, and anyone with a cock could fulfil it. His fists clench in the bonds and he tries to move alluringly, arching back a little, offering his ass as much as he can.

"Me first," one alpha decides.

"Yeah. Okay," says the other.

There's no ceremony about it. No need for tease or foreplay. Suga feels the heavy head of a cock rubbing up between his cheeks, sliding bluntly through the slick, and he practically purrs in relief. He would have parted his legs further except the bar between his ankles won't give.

He bites his lip, his breath stuttering. He tries to rub back onto the length but he still can't move. He gives a groan of desperation.

The next moment he is rewarded as Nishinoya pushes his hips forward and bottoms out, his full length pushing heavy and full into Suga's body with one smooth slide.

It is like nothing Suga has ever felt. He sees stars behind his eyelids. It's huge. Nothing like the long twisting fingers that are all he's ever penetrated himself with. This is a cock. A real alpha cock. And it presses like perfection upon every tingling part of his body, stimulating him everywhere at once. His own small cock pulses furiously in response, but there's no time to savour the feeling because Nishinoya has already pulled out only to slam back in again harder, deeper, rougher. Then he does it again, then again.

"Oh-" he hears the alpha whisper somewhere above him. "Oh, oh, oh, this is fucking amazing."

Pleasure swirls through Suga’s body at those words. All control seeps out of his muscles. His jaw slackens, and he isn't even aware of the salvia dribbling from his mouth to the floor. He can't resist. Can't even clench his muscles, or brace himself for the violence of the impact that crashes against him and into him again and again. He is loose and languid and helpless and fuck, fuck, fuck it is good.

His body is singing with pleasure, adjusting itself to make room for the thick length, welcoming it and purring around it, feeling it drag against his walls, winding him up with pleasure.

He can feel Nishinoya stabbing deep inside, sending electricity through his nerves right to his fingertips. Pleasure floods through Suga's brain. He is so fucking big. Suga tries to rock back into Nishinoya's pistoning hips, trying to pull him deeper, make the smacking slap of skin on skin harder, louder. But he can't manage to coordinate his body for more than a second before Nishinoya is already fucking the effort out of him.

He feels Nishinoya's hands on his hips, clenching fists, fingers digging possessively into his skin to give himself more pull, more leverage. Nishinoya bends his knees a little and thrusts up, changing the angle, reaching new spaces inside Suga's body and drawing more helpless moans from his limp lips.

Suga feels himself collapsing. His eyes roll helplessly, all his muscles spasming hard. His cock is flapping back and forth wildly with every punch of pleasure Nishinoya pistons into him. It is angry and red and seeping relentlessly but though the pleasure mounts and mounts he can't- he can't seem to-

His dazed eyes flicker upwards and watch it swinging hopelessly in frustration above him. He can see where the metal is physically digging in but he can't do anything to remove it or loosen it. His breath huffs out of him as he strains for release. It is then that he feels Nishinoya go still with a short sharp cry, and then Suga feels it. Ballooning up inside him. Stretching him wider and wider beyond what he would have thought possible.

Knot, he thinks in a blind rush of giddy excitement, wiggling his ass just a little to feel the way it rubs against his rim. But the pleasure soon turns to concern as the knot inflates further, and further. It stings now. Stretching him mercilessly, well beyond his experience, threatening to tear the delicate muscles, making him pant for a moment with wide-eyed anxiety. But his body is made for this, and slowly he feels his muscles giving way, relaxing, untwisting, letting Nishinoya's cock lock up inside him and begin to spurt hot cum as the long alpha orgasm rolls through Nishinoya's body and makes the smaller male groan.

Suga slumps weak and helpless as Nishinoya fills him up. The alpha hormones in the semen make him dopey and pliant. He hears someone speak - another alpha? - but Nishinoya's only response is a snap of his teeth and a growl, warning others to keep away. His fingers dig hard into Suga's flesh. He bends forward and scrapes his teeth up Suga's back possessively, making Suga tremble with pleasure. He gives small, blunt little thrusts as he empties himself, and Suga can feel the way his own muscles ripple in response, milking every drop of alpha seed from the pulsing cock.

It's a good ten minutes before Nishinoya's knot deflates enough for him to pull loose.

Slick mixed with cum slides heavy down the inside of Suga's thighs. His heat is momentarily sated. The urge to sleep is coming over him. He wants to feel his alpha's teeth in his neck, claiming him, marking him. He wants to be weighted down, held, protected. Wants Nishinoya's scent to surround him.

But that comfort doesn't come. Nishinoya steps away, and he does not come back.

Something cold and frightened curls anxiously in Suga's gut, his instincts flaring in warning. That's not... that's not right. It's not... the way. It's not. It's…

Instead, almost at once, he feels two thick fingers force their way into his weeping hole, swirling around as if to collect the seed Nishinoya just shot in there and drag it back out. Again and again those strange fingers swirl inside him, clearing him out. Wasting his alpha's precious seed, letting it splatter on the ground.

Suga doesn't like that. He growls low, warning this unknown second alpha to keep away. Expecting Nishinoya to protect him.

But a fierce stinging slap comes out of nowhere, hard against his asscheek, making Suga's body jerk in surprise. A warning. A punishment. A fierce red mark blooms over his skin like a brand.

"My turn," the second alpha informs him, and his voice is heavy with lust.

Suga can remember no one’s names. Does not know where he is. Cannot understand anything but the pulsing needs of his own body. But if he could remember Asahi as a gentle giant, he would have learned something now about human nature. That an alpha in control, and an alpha deep in rut, are truly not the same thing at all.

The pleasant daze of sated-heat began to dissipate with the intruding fingers, and continues to do so with the denial of the soporific comfort of Nishinoya's seed. The painful flare of heat awakens in his body, and only the potent scent of this new alpha curls around Suga, bringing any relief. He drinks him in.

Suga feels his hole begin to twitch again in interest. An uncertain churning starts up in his stomach.  
But instead of the penetration he expects, Asahi walks around him, to his front, taking a fistful of his hair and lifting his face up. Suga comes face to face with an absolutely monstrous cock.

His jaw slackens in disbelief.

That won't fit, is his first thought. There's no way that will fit in me.

It is dripping pre-cum, its sides already shiny and wet with it. Suga's eyes take in the thick veins that pulse around it. It looks unreal. An absolute monster. His mouth starts to water and he licks his lips.

Asahi gives him a shake.

"Suck it," he says.

Suga does as he is told, his wolf cowering before Asahi's. But with his lips parted as wide as they can go, he can still barely fit more than the head into his mouth. He runs his tongue over it uncertainly, not entirely sure what to do. Asahi becomes impatient, however, and still holding him by the hair, begins to thrust.

Suga's eyes go wide. This is beyond his experience. He's never done or imagined anything like this before. He can't cry out. Not with the huge cock gagging him and striking the back of his throat continuously. His jaw aches within moments. His fingers twitch and flex in the binds but he can't move or draw back. Can't stop this. Can't do anything but accept what Asahi is giving to him.

He squeezes his eyes closed, relaxing his throat, widening, accepting more and more of Asahi's length. But he can't breathe. He tries to whimper. To plead. But he can do nothing.

His only comfort is the fact that Asahi's cock is so huge there's no way Suga can possibly break his jaw on his inflating knot.

Asahi's hands grip under his jaw tightly, pressing his cheeks in hard with his powerful fingers so that Suga can feel them between his own teeth. He splutters helplessly around the cock in his mouth.

"You like this?" Asahi wants to know. "You like me using you like this?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small and furious voice is angry at the question. But Suga doesn't listen to it. All he can do is feel his eyes roll, his body shaking, and something in his stomach singing out, Yes, yes, yes.

His throat flexes compulsively, his moans vibrating up Asahi's dick. He wants to please his alpha. He wants to be good. Wants to take him in deeper and deeper. Make him cum. Drink up his seed like cream.

The fist in his hair and the fingers dug into his jaw give him such pleasure he can't stand it. He can't move. He can't stop. He can't anything. He is helpless before this alpha. And good god how he fucking loves it.

His cock aches. Aches so much that it burns. He pushes and strains and tries to force the orgasm out but he just can't - can't -

He screws up in face with the effort of trying to force his release, but it's no good. Tears of frustration roll down his cheeks. Asahi sees his tears and pulls back. Before Suga can protest, Asahi has slapped him across the face with his engorged cock. Once, twice. Then he laughs at him.

"All you want is a cock in your ass, isn't it? That's all omegas are good for. Fucking. You want my cock? You want me to fuck you?"

Suga groans anxiously.

"Well?" Asahi demands.

"Yes-" Suga manages to whisper out of his sore, abused throat. "Please. Please."

"What do you want?"

"Your... cock."

"Where?"

"In my... ass."

Asahi prods him one last time in the face, leaving a trial of saliva and pre-cum across his cheek. He lets out a laugh, and releases his hair. "Correct."

Suga's head sags down again in exhaustion.

Asahi gets to his feet and goes around to Suga's back once again.

He takes his time lining up, making sure to rub his cock head up and down through Suga's crack, sliding through the slick. He bumps heavily against Suga's hole a few times with a smirk, making sure that Suga is fully aware of his massive girth.

"You ready for this? It’ll hurt."

Suga can't seem to speak. His tongue is heavy in his mouth. His thoughts and senses hopelessly jumbled. He thinks about Asahi's size and a nervous feeling twists in his gut. It won't fit. But Asahi forces his way in anyway with a long thrust of his hips.

The feet of the frame literally leave the ground.

The sound in Suga's mouth is half moan and half scream.

Asahi is much, much larger than Nishinoya. Suga can feel his body protesting at the intrusion. The stretch, the feeling, has him whimpering and moaning mindlessly. Asahi reaches down to fist his hand in Suga's hair, pulling his head up and back until Suga is afraid his neck will snap. Then he fucks him.

Suga gurgles nonsense as his world falls apart. Asahi is strong and powerful, his thrusts so deep, his cock so huge, Suga hardly knows where he ends and the cock that is filling him up begins. His stomach bulges outwards with every thrust, Asahi's cock stabbing deep enough to distend his belly. He feels sick, but his body takes it. His omega structures gradually slacken and adjust and make room for the intruding organ, rippling around Asahi's length, accepting and welcoming.

Asahi's eager grunts are rough in his ears. The smell of pleasured alpha twists Suga's mind into a flood of positivity. He wants to please Asahi. Wants every inch of himself to be filled with cock. Wants to prove himself. Stretch himself further. Be taken as far as possible, until he breaks.

But he can't control himself at all. His muscles have no strength. His body is useless as Asahi pounds relentlessly into him, pressing against all his organs, dominating the space in his body. He rubs aggressively against every crevice so that Suga has absolutely no where to hide. Nothing of his body that remains his own. Every part of him belongs to Asahi and it makes him cry helplessly in pleasure, straining against his bonds. He wants to part his legs further. He wants to arch his back. He wants to put a hand on his stomach and feel the point of Asahi's cock thudding against his palm from within. But the thick cock is pressing him so full and so heavy that he can feel his water slipping, first a little, and then more. Though he frantically tries to hold it in, the weight of Asahi's cock keeps forcing it out. A hot wet trickle down his shaking legs.

Asahi stops, feeling the unexpected wet warmth, and looks down at the sound of the liquid hitting the floor. Seeing the reality he laughs and laughs and laughs. "Look," he calls the attention of the others. "He’s pissing himself."

Asahi doesn't wait or let up or step away from the mess. Delighted, he only curves his body forward, putting more weight onto Suga's back. At the same time he brings his large hand under Suga's body and presses up hard onto the place where his bladder is. Then he pistons his massive cock deeper into Suga's body, forcing the urine to keep flowing as if he is pumping it out. Suga cries piteously but can do nothing except allow himself to be humiliated, Asahi's laughter panting hot against his back.

Eventually he feels an uptick in Asahi's pace as the end approaches, and he begins to worry over the size of the knot that is going to force him open. But before that can happen, an ominous creak in the wood of the frame reaches his ears. Asahi, lost chasing his own pleasure, doesn't seem to notice it. But with every thrust, Suga becomes more aware of the fact that the frame is creaking, and the legs are lifting from the ground, and the whole thing is rocking quite precariously under the force of Asahi's thrusts. He is still helpless, tied to it, forced to put his full weight on it, so that he shrieks when the wooden post beneath his stomach gives way under Asahi's relentless pounding, and he finds himself falling to his knees on the floor.

Asahi does not stop for a moment, not even to shove away the remnants of the shattered wooden frame, his huge arms engulfing Suga's waist, gripping his body tightly, maintaining their contact. He speeds up as the added leverage gives him a better position to thrust.

Suga's ankles are still spread wide by the bar, and his wrists are still connected to two now separated pieces of wood. But he is more mobile than he has been over the last couple of hours since this all began. Still, he cannot move. Because Asahi pushes him down, holding him helpless, forcing his face down against the floor. Suga kneels obediently under the powerful alpha, his back arched to accept the relentless pounding of his cock, and allows himself to be fucked into dazed oblivion.

When Asahi's knot begins to inflate, Suga's eyes open in alarm. But he finds then that alpha knots are all of a relatively consistent size. Though his cock is vast, Asahi's knot is not in reality much bigger than Nishinoya's was. Enough to lock their bodies together. Enough to prevent Suga from moving away or separating their connection. He can feel Asahi's hot breath blowing against the back of his neck, a heavy panting, as he finally stills and lets his seed spill into Suga's body, a warning growl rumbling in his throat or a snap of his teeth behind Suga's head any time Suga tries to move or shift his weight. So Suga only lies still, gasping and shuddering as Asahi pumps him full.

As before, as soon as Asahi's alpha hormones flow into his body, Suga feels a profound sleepiness coming over him. He wants to rest. He wants his alpha. He tries to curl towards Asahi, twisting onto his back, wanting to hang onto him, to offer him his neck in submission. But Asahi only looks at his still-seeping omega cock and gives a dissatisfied blow of air. He is obviously displeased and Suga is flooded with such anxiety he barely knows what to do. His instinct to please his alpha flares in him. He whines for him - his alpha, his alpha. Wanting his scent, wanting his comfort. He cannot move, pinned down by his own exhaustion. His instincts tell him that his alpha should be beside him. Protecting him. Ready to defend the seeds he has planted. But Asahi is already gone and Suga's body cannot understand why, once again, his alpha has left him alone. He feels cold and disaffected, vulnerable. Afraid. But he is exhausted too. And soon enough, he passes out.

* * *

When he wakes he finds that his heat-fever has already returned. The warmth is running high through his veins, telling him to respond, to roll over onto his hands and knees and present himself for taking to Asahi once again. But his alpha is still not there. He panics for a moment, trying to move, only to find that he is still restrained. He takes anxious, shuddering breathes and tests the restraints on his ankles. They calm him a little. His anchor. Something possessive in their touch.  
Then he smells it.

Like mulch. Like leaves after the rain. He parts his lips and lolls out his tongue to taste the air. It's there. Close. Something he remembers. Something safe.

He opens his eyes blearily to see Daichi Sawamura standing over him, his arms folded across his chest.

* * *

Daichi stands and watches Suga come around, scent the air, and notice his presence. He takes the omega in with a critical eye. 

He is absolutely ruined.

Sprawled and naked. Fluid is everywhere, smeared over his skin, his face, his thighs. Slick, cum, and urine. He smells too much like alpha, which Daichi finds he dislikes quite intensely. On the other hand, he also smells unbelievably good. But that hardly seems to be the point.

He looks at Suga's unhappy cock. The small thing has not softened. Driven still by the heat, it is erect and eager, but still constrained by the ring which, according to a grumpy Asahi, makes the trial quite impossible. Daichi wonders about that. He isn't totally sure that any of them have figured out how to do this right.

He gives a sigh.

"We are idiots," he mutters to himself, "we have no idea what we are doing."

He moves closer, squatting down and reaching out a gentle hand to stroke Suga's naked thigh softly.  
He meets the omega's bleary eyes.

"Omega," he addresses him. Suga shifts a little and whines in response. As he moves, a fresh wave of slick dribbles out of him, and its delicious potency kicks Daichi hard in the gut. He has to force himself to continue. "What is your name?"

An odd question. Or perhaps not. Daichi has just watched his teammates cease to be humans and become animals. And even now, the omega doesn't seem to know the answer. He looks genuinely confused for a long while. Daichi can practically see him working his way through the fog of the heat that addles him. Trying to find reason. Find sense. Find something other than omega, and alpha, and cock, and cum.

"Su-ga-wa-ra'" he answers finally. Uncertainly. He licks his lips. "Sugawara Koshi."

Daichi gives a pleased hum. "And me? Do you know me?"

Suga scents the air again. The answer comes faster this time. "Daichi," he murmurs. "Daichi."

"That's right," Daichi confirms, he begins to carefully undo the restraints on Suga's arms and legs. Suga doesn't seem to approve of this, and he whines in quiet protest, but Daichi only hushes him.

"It's all right. I'm here. You don't really like being tied up like this, do you?"

Suga nods dazedly. "I… I do-" he protests.

Daichi furrows his brow in confusion.

"Why? Doesn't it make you vulnerable? You're as good as helpless."

Suga shakes his head. "Feels safe," he refutes.

Daichi is confused by that. He thinks about it for a while.

"Does it make you feel like an alpha is holding you?"

"Yes," Suga manages to slur at him.

Daichi is taken a little aback. "I... see." He hadn’t looked at it like that before.

"Please," Suga whispers quietly, closing his eyes. The word is meaningless. But Daichi kind of gets it.

He runs his fingers gently over Suga's forearm. Then his cheek. Brushing tenderly into his hair. "How did I never see you for what you are?" he mumbles to himself. "How have I misunderstood you for so long?"

He closes his eyes. His father said that the trial was a steep learning curve. But - learning what? Learning how to give pleasure to an omega? Surely not. Nothing could be simpler than that. It is very obvious that pleasure comes easy to an omega in heat. If the trial was merely a matter of physical pleasure, then surely any alpha with a knot could succeed. No. The nature of the trial was never pleasure. It ways always... compatibility. But what does that mean?

Being an alpha doesn't mean only taking, demanding, dominating, Daichi begins to consider, trying to work it out. Wanting to. If only for Suga’s sake. He looks so pitiful, lying there weak and exhausted. This can’t be how it is meant to go. This can’t be all there is. He deserves more than this. 

There is also... returning. Responsibility. Protection. An alpha may control their omega. But they must surrender to them too. For what alpha could ever act otherwise than in their omega's best interests? Alphas cannot harm their omegas, or hurt them, or subjugate them. They can never do anything but put their omega first. Existing primarily to serve their omega’s needs, even before their own. Alphas may not make the same choices that an omega would, or even choices that their omegas like, and such is the necessity of discipline and control. But that is the nature of the relationship. That is what one gives to the other, and what the other returns. And just as the omega surrenders to an alpha, the alpha surrenders back to them. There is meant to be… balance.

It occurs to him then that the trial is about finding his own nature, just as much as it is about finding Suga's. He squeezes his lips together in thought.

Trust, his father had said. The omega must trust the alpha wholly in order to submit. And so the alpha must pursue honesty between them, above all things. More than dominance, or control, or competency, or egotism. It is not about the flesh. It is about… trust.

"Do you know what I want?" Daichi finally speaks up.

Suga only stares up at him with wide, questioning eyes.

"I want to fuck you," Daichi says, directly to the point. "Do you want me to do that?"

Suga quickly nods his head. "Please," he agrees. "Yes, yes. Please." He is already moving, intending to roll over and present, but Daichi holds him down with one hand on his shoulder, and Suga stills.

"Your name?" Daichi asks him again.

"Sugawara Koshi."

"And mine?"

"Sawamura Daichi," he says in an eager rush, apparently keen to get back on with the fucking that Daichi mentioned before. A small whimper escapes his lips and he rubs his thighs together. He is, Daichi reminds himself, still afflicted by his heat.

But Daichi is not done talking to him. "You told me before that you didn't want anyone to mate with you. Why do you want me to do it now?"

Suga's eyes go wide as saucers. "I - I do want it," he protests.

"So you say. What has changed? Is it just your heat?"

"No, I-" he hesitates.

"Then what? Why do you want my cock so badly?"

"Because I..." Suga's eyes are shining with something as he looks up at Daichi. "...I want to lose. I have already… lost."

"Not yet you haven't," Daichi points out, gesturing to the ring and the lack of orgasm. 'It seems pretty clear to me that you won't orgasm through that ring just because some alpha is screwing you. There must be something else. This isn't a trial of mere accident."

But Suga only shakes his head. "I want..." he gives a small hiccup. "I want you. I've been waiting... for you... to win."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Who am I?"

"Sawamura Daichi."

Daichi sucks in a breath.

Suga closes his eyes for a moment. "You'll... know how to… what to… do."

"Huh," Daichi gives a disbelieving shrug. "Well. I will do my best. If that's what you want. But a bond is permanent, you know?"

"I know."

"You weren't entirely honest when you asked the three of us to join this trial, were you?"

"No…"

“You knew we wouldn’t be able to resist you in heat.”

Suga does not respond.

"So why did you ask us? Why would you want… one of us?"

"Because I..." his breath stutters a little. "...I want to play volleyball."

Daichi huffs quietly. "And you just assume that I will let you play?"

Suga is silent.

"What if I forbid you from playing? Will you respect my decision?"

Suga looks up at him uncertainly for a moment. Then, very slowly, he nods.

Daichi licks his lips. "Well then, you know how to ask nicely, don't you?"

Suga hesitates for a moment, confusion crossing his face as if he isn't sure what Daichi is asking. Then he moves, getting up on his hands and knees and presenting to Daichi. No bonds. No restraints. Only Suga's will.

"Good boy," Daichi praises him and Suga keens softly. "Put your head down," Daichi instructs, and Suga does as he is told. "Lift your ass a bit higher. I want to see it."

Suga follows Daichi's instructions. Daichi comes closer to stroke the naked skin of his back, wiping away a little of the mess from around his hole. Suga waits silently while Daichi inspects him intimately, tolerating the run of Daichi's fingers patiently, without flinching, even when Daichi's hand drops down to fondle his small balls gently.

"This body will be mine," Daichi finally announces warningly. "No other alpha will touch you ever again."

Suga nods.

"You will be obedient to me. And when you fail in that, I will discipline you, severely."

Suga nods again.

"My family is very traditional. You know what that means, don't you?"

When Suga doesn't answer right away, Daichi elaborates. "You'll serve the alphas at home. You'll wear the robes I choose for you. You will kneel on the floor. You will eat last, and you will say little or nothing in front of anyone but me. You will make yourself available for me whenever I call for you. And I won't have any omega of mine running around masquerading as an alpha. You'll present yourself as an omega at school from this day on."

Suga nods.

"In return, you must be honest with me. I will never harm you, or hurt you, or judge you. I will listen to you and do everything in my power to keep you safe and happy. You must tell me what you want, what you think, what you need, so that I can fulfil my role to you."

He feels Suga stiffen uncertainly under his hand.

"What is it?" Daichi asks him, feeling Suga's thigh trembling. "If you have a question, ask it."

"What about..." Suga swallows nervously. "I want to stay on the team…"

Daichi gives a sigh.

"That decision is mine. But so long as you are my mate, everything I decide for you will always be in your best interests. Do you trust me?"

Suga hesitates for a moment before nodding, lowering his head, and parting his knees temptingly. "Yes, alpha. I do."

Daichi lets a smile cross his lips. He pulls down his fly, bringing out his straining erection. God, but this boy is so beautiful, he thinks to himself. How could he possibly be this lucky?

Daichi moves in close behind him, savouring the moment, breathing in Suga's heat and feeling it wind up something tight inside of him. He wants to wait but he can't, he simply slides smoothly into his tight body and can't help the low groan that forces its way out from between his lips. Suga's heat wraps around him. How he can be so tight after Asahi almost split him in two, Daichi doesn't know. His fingers run over his skin, adoring. But there's a howling in him that he simply can't ignore. So he soon digs his fingers into Suga's hips and starts to move, dragging the omega back onto his cock, admiring the way it sinks in right up flush to his stomach. Suga shudders and cries and groans under him, and Daichi is driven onwards, floating on a wave of mindless heat and omega pheromones that make him want to thrash him into the floor. Scented slick drips from his balls as he continues, his fingers reaching out to catch the back of Suga's neck and force his head down. Suga's body immediately tightens up around him in response, aroused by the vulnerability of his position, his desire to be submissive to his alpha.

But Daichi isn't satisfied just by this. After thoroughly warming himself through, filling Suga’s angles until he feels the muscles slacken, he pulls out, to Suga's protest, only to flip him onto his back and pin him down by the shoulders. Suga looks up at him in surprise. They are eye to eye. It's not the classic position, and Suga is unsure, but Daichi grips his chin and forces him to maintain their eye contact.

"I told you," he gasps, between breaths. "I want your honesty. I want to see how I make you feel. I want you to show me."

Everything feels far more intimate from this position. Now that they are face-to-face, human-to-human, and not merely fucking through their wolves. Suga looks almost embarrassed. Much more vulnerable.

But Suga doesn't much have time to feel self-conscious because Daichi is sitting up on his knees, gripping Suga's ankles in his hands and forcing them open wide. Suga's hands scrabble uselessly at the floor as Daichi picks up his pace, thrusting up into his body, touching those tender parts inside him that weren't meant to be so easily reached. Suga moans, his lips slackening, seeing stars as his body is dragged back and forth against the ground, weak against Daichi's fierce thrusts.

"Alpha," he slurs helplessly. "Alpha, alpha, please, ah-"

Daichi lets out a groan of his own, watching Suga's face, feeling his knot beginning to inflate. Before he can lose himself to his own orgasm, he leans down and tilts Suga's chin up with one finger, so that they are lips against lips.

"You..." he gasps, "...will obey me?" he demands, his lips moving teasingly against Suga's mouth.

Suga lets out a pleasured groan. "Yes, alpha, yes..." 

Daichi pushes in to kiss him, moaning softly as he does so. Suga’s tongue flickers out in offering and Daichi chooses to gently suckle on it, drawing it out further from Suga's mouth, causing Suga to roll his eyes in pleasure.

Daichi smiles and tenderly releases his tongue.

"Then, omega," he instructs him, his voice lowering to a gruff command. "...let me see you come."

Every muscle in Suga's body grips Daichi in an iron grasp as Suga squeezes his eyes closed and screams through his orgasm, forcing himself down further onto Daichi's cock. As he comes through the ring, spurting transparent omega cum across his chest, Daichi forces Suga's chin further up to expose his throat, bares his teeth, and then bites down hard on his omega's neck. Sealing the bond between them. 

Mine, he growls through his teeth as his knot inflates to match Suga’s violent orgasm. Mine.

* * *

Hinata drops all the basketballs in astonishment. They roll in every direction across the sports hall. He points his finger at Suga and his jaw hangs open.

"What?!" he demands loudly. "WHAT?"

Suga is highly embarrassed and looks the other way. He is still not used to wearing a skirt to school. But his mate insists on it... so he does as he is told. Daichi only allows him to wear alpha-type clothes during training and during games. He doesn't mind it. But getting this reaction every time is becoming a little wearying.

Before he can think of something to say, Hinata is standing close in front of him, examining him, sniffing at him, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Suga, you're omega?"

Suga fingers go up to touch the prominent mating bite on his neck. "Uh, yeah."

"Since when?"

"Uhm, always."

Hinata’s jaw is hanging so loose he could pick it off the floor. "I didn't know," he complains. "I never knew that, I thought - I thought -" he lifts his hand to his forehead in disbelief. "All this time I thought I was..." he closes his eyes. "Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit." He opens his eyes and sees the bite on Suga’s neck. "And you're mated now?"

"Uh huh."

Hinata looks astonished. "Who's the alpha?"

"That would be me." Daichi appears beside Suga, sliding a possessive arm around his waist, and sending him a small side-smile.

Kageyama comes running over in curiosity. “What’s going on? Why is Suga wearing a skirt?” He catches sight of the mating bite. “Wait, what?” He stares at Suga and Daichi. “What?”

Suga points at Hinata, “That’s what he said.”

"Ooooooh! I see how it is!" Tanaka pipes up from behind them, appearing out of nowhere. "Mating trial?" he wants to know.

"That's right," Daichi preens, turning to speak to him, a little smugly.

Hinata leans in to Suga. “I thought you were an alpha...” he grumbles.

“Is something wrong?”

“No… it’s just… you know...” he flushes red. “You’re omega.”

“And…?”

“And...” Hinata looks up at him a little shyly, “...well... I thought I was the only one.”

“ _What?_ ” Kageyama flushes a furious red. Suga only laughs.

-the end

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism greatly desired ;)


End file.
